Remedy
by Groundswell
Summary: He knew it was coming. That awkward moment where they had to look at each other, remember their time together, and look away embarrassed. It was always like that. After that brutal reunion, the moment had to come. That’s the way things are, he admitted.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Hi there. This story was born out of a rainful day and my need to write something darker than usual. It's rather new to me, so any critical coments are welcome, I want to improve where I can. I don't own the characters. And as for the title, it was born out of the song Remedy by Seether, which I don't own either. The timeline is pushed a little compared with canon, but it's not much so hopefully that shouldn't bug too many.  
Enjoy!_

**Chapter 1**

He didn't want to open his eyes. He wanted to stay in the dark where everything could still be imagined a dream. A horrible nightmare. If he opened his eyes, it would be real. The pain, the loss. His life. He didn't want that. He wanted it to stay away, thinking it as something unreal. Letting his happiness last a little longer.

This could not be happening. He repeated those words over and over again in his head, hoping by some miracle, it would be true. Things like that happened. If one wished it, wanted it, hard enough, it would happen.

But he was in denial. Deep under the constant 'this is not happening' in his head, he knew that this in fact _was_ happening. He knew it wasn't a nightmare; it was real. But accepting it hurt so much more than thinking of it as unreal. And he was not ready for more pain. His last real memory was of pain. What had come afterwards were just blurred bits of things he did not know the reliability of. Bits of sentences like 'may be paralysed', 'ruined beyond repair' and 'never going back' had somehow reached his mind in his unconscious state.

He had put the puzzle together. He knew it was the end of everything he loved.

"James Potter?"

The voice was slightly familiar, but he didn't know from where. It was delicate and clearly belonged to a woman. It was soft and sweet, easily breaking through the wall he had been building between his mind and the world around him. He wanted her to keep speaking, but he knew what that would bring. Pain and more words he wouldn't be able to bear to hear.

Therefore he did not respond.

"James?"

A warm, little hand took a hold of his hand, squeezing it very slightly. Was one able to feel the touch of a hand if one was paralysed? He could feel the woman letting go of his hand and running her fingers up his arm. No, his arm was not paralysed, he was sure.

Softly, a hand was laid on his other arm. It was the same person, the woman. Her hands felt the same. The same warmth, softness and careful touch. Her fingers rounded his elbows, feeling for something. They ran further up his arm, to his shoulder. The flat hand felt softly around his muscles, clearly searching for something. Then, carefully she squeezed his right shoulder. She let go of it and James knew what was coming next.

Her touch had barely tightened before he cried out in pain. Red-hot pain shot from his shoulder into the shoulder blade and down his arm to his fingers. It was burning, ripping his muscles apart from the bones. Trying to kill him, he was sure.

He sensed nothing but the pain, and he wanted it to stop.

Before his cry had even stopped he had raised his left arm, pushing the woman away with a violent jerk he didn't have much control over. He heard her tumble around on the floor, but the only thing he really paid his attention to was the slowly fading pain in his arm.

It had disappeared from his fingers, slowly withdrawing up through his arm, and after several long seconds, there only was a throbbing pain in his shoulder. He bit his teeth hard together, focusing on something else.

Then he remembered. The woman. Very slowly he opened his eyes. The brightness of the room surprised him for a second, but he blinked it away and, despite the pain, he turned his head very slowly to the right. She was rubbing her shoulder, red hair from her ponytail covering her face and the pain she had to be showing from his blow.

With a bitter smile she tossed her hair over her shoulder and slowly helped herself up. With a feeling of horror he realised he'd just hit a woman, and not just any woman.

He closed his eyes for a second, already able to see the headlines; 'Fallen Quidditch Star, James Potter, Hitting Ex Girlfriend In Frustration.'

Lily Evans was so different to the person James had dated a few months in his last year at Hogwarts. She had changed, but James couldn't decide if it was for the better or not. Clad in sky blue ropes and a pained frown on her forehead, Lily was looking at James. She was looking older, thinner in some way. Her hair was longer and darker than he remembered. Almost auburn instead of the sparkling red it once had had. Her eyes were the same though. Almond shaped and striking emerald green.

But soon the surprised faded and James felt a new feeling in his body. Shame. He hadn't seen Lily since their last day of school, and only two days prior to that day, they had broken up in a very loud and not friendly way. And now he had hit her, because she was tending to him. That could not be good.

He closed his eyes in horror and – ignoring the slight pain it caused – let his head fall back on the pillow, muttering a faint, "Fuck."

Despair overcame him and he closed off once again. His life couldn't possibly get any worse. Maybe, if he wished for it very hard, when he opened his eyes again, Lily would be gone and another nurse would be standing next to his bed. But recently luck hadn't been on his side, and he had to admit that those chances were very slim.

His eyes shot open as the covers over his feet were pulled softly aside. Her fingers trailed his skin from his knees and down to his feet.

"Can you feel this, James?" she asked.

He didn't dare return her gaze and kept a firm eye on the white and grey stripped ceiling. He breathed out inaudibly. "Yes."

"Can you move your toes?"

Without answering he did so. She let go of his foot and put the cover back over. He breathed out of relief; having his ex girlfriend touching his feet was not something he fancied. In fact, even her being in the same room as him was a thing he'd rather be without.

He knew it was coming. That awkward moment where they had to look at each other, remember their time together, and look away embarrassed. It was always like that. After that brutal reunion, the moment had to come. That's the way things are, he admitted. Karma screws you over and life hates you and wants to see you lie on the ground, howling in pain.

"James..." Her voice still had the soft edge and now she was speaking close to him. She touched his arm, her fingers leaving his skin burning. "James, I need you to sit up. Can you do that?"

He slowly opened his eyes again. She wasn't even looking at his face, but his shoulder. Her gaze had that attentive look he knew so well. She was concentrating hard, thinking.

"Yeah," he croaked.

Without moving his right arm at all, he sat up, thanking the hard Quidditch training throughout the last ten years of his life. He wouldn't have been able to bear it if Lily was to help him.

"And please turn a little. I need to see the cut."

Using his left arm, he turned away from her, letting her get to his naked back. Very carefully she started pulling off a large bandage between his shoulder blades which he hadn't yet realised he was wearing. The tape which had kept the bandage sticking onto his skin pulled in it, making him wince in pain.

"Sorry," she said.

She removed the rest of it carefully. She threw it into the bin at the door and then turned her attention back to his back. Her fingers softly touched his skin, trailing around what he assumed were where the spear had gone through. Then her fingers returned to the hurting spot from before. It had only just stopped aching.

He could listen to her breathing. It was so close to him. He could almost feel it on him too. It was slow and calm, but came out a tad faster than what he remembered her for. She was nervous; he could feel it in her touch too.

"Okay," she muttered. "Can you move your head down, please? Just stop when it hurts."

He did as told. He stopped before his chin reached his chest, his shoulder and spine hurting. He let a faint gasp escape his lips.

"And up again, thank you." Slowly he looked up again. "I'll just check your flexibility. I'm going to move your arm around little. Please say if it hurts too much."

Very carefully she took a hold around his upper arm, just beneath the place of the pain. With a slightly unsteady breath she lifted up his arm.

He knew she was being careful now. Last time she'd touched his shoulder he had hit her. He understood her nervousness. He closed his eyes and tried to think of something else, but her touch and the pain it brought made it impossible. It was too much for him.

"I'm sorry," he muttered faintly. "About before, I mean."

"It's okay," she said.

He gasped when she moved his arm too much forward and with his left hand he grabbed around the covers. He closed his eyes, praying that was the last sign of weakness he'd show her.

Very slowly she put his arm down and sighed deeply. "Thanks."

She was being too polite. Careful, he realised. She was so nervous, her every movement and word had been carefully thought of before speaking. She was so much more polite than he remembered her. It didn't suit her.

"How bad is it?" he forced himself to ask.

He regretted it a second later and almost asked her not to answer. He wasn't sure he'd be able to bear the answer.

She sighed deeply and he could feel the bed give slightly away as she sat down on the bed behind him. "Not good," she answered after a few seconds. In the silence he heard her swallow. "Your arm won't ever be the same again."

He closed his eyes in horror. She didn't need to say it. He knew it and it was the truth he hadn't wanted to wake up to. The ugly truth that told him that after this, his Quidditch career was probably over. The one thing he loved the most in his life was over.

She started unpacking something he only could guess was a new bandage. "But you should consider yourself lucky, James. If the spear had entered your body mere centimetres to the left," – Her fingers trailed over the skin of his left shoulder towards his spine, – "it would have hit your spine and you would have been paralysed, possibly dead."

"How can I be lucky?" he muttered. "My arm is useless and the thing I love doing the most is now becoming impossible for me."

"You could have died," she said as if he hadn't heard it the first time. "This is going to hurt a little, but I have to clean the cut." She pressed something wet against his skin.

He balled his fist up and hissed faintly. He closed his eyes as the first small tears gathered in the corner of his eyes. Then it was over.

He bit his lower lip. "How come it's not healed? Every other accident I've ever had has been healed in a minute. Why is this so bad?"

"I'm not sure," she said in a voice he could barely hear. "But I think it's because you got an 've already healed where the spear went out. There." She touched his arm on the front, just beneath the shoulder. "You've only been out for nine hours, it'll soon get better."

"Better," he echoed. "I wouldn't use that word."

"Look, James..." She seemed to struggle with the words for a few seconds. "That fall and landing... It would have caused a muggle his life, but the magic in your blood saved you. You should be happy. You survived."

"Why does it make a difference that I'm magical?" he muttered, trying not to let it show that he was on the edge of breaking.

She sighed and slowly put on the new bandage. "It's a defence mechanism. Like a reaction if I'd hit you on the knee or tried to poke you in the eye. Your body reacts to it before you're even aware of it. So with magic. It can save us from the most terrible falls and other accidents."

"But what has it to do with me?"

She attached the bandage. "It's what saved your life. The spear actually grazed your spine, but you didn't get much damage."

"It doesn't matter," he muttered, blinking a few times. "I won't ever be able to play again, will I?"

She didn't say anything. Instead she fastened the bandage with her hand one more time. After she finished she didn't move, but sat perfectly still behind him, breathing fast enough for him confirm the question himself. At last she took a deep unsteady breath. "I'm so sorry, James."

Slowly he rubbed his face in his left hand, not able to contain the grief and tears anymore. Like this he sat for almost a minute; Lily's hands comforting on his shoulder, his breathing forced and rasped.

"It's not the end of your life," she muttered. "There must be something you love just as much as Quidditch."

"What do you know about that?" he bit a little too harshly. "You didn't just lose the thing you love the most in your life."

"No," she agreed. "But I have tried loosing something that meant a lot to me... too."

"What did you do about that?" he asked, drying the last tear off his cheek. His eyes were still wet though.

"Dealt with it," she said. "It takes time, but I know you're strong enough to get there."

"How do you know?" he whispered.

She got up from the bed carefully and slowly walked to the other side of him. When she sat down in front of him she was looking at him, pain clearly showing on her face. But also determination.

"Because I know you," she said. "James, you're one of the bravest and strongest persons I know of, and I doubt a little injury will be the thing to break you."

He looked away. Her gaze was too strong for him.

And then it came, just as he had expected. That moment. The awkward silence settled and without even reading her mind, James knew what she was thinking. That day, two and a half years back. The last time he had seen her. She had been exiting through the barrier along with Sally Wilson. She turned just before, catching his eye. She hadn't been smiling, but there had been something else about her look. Something that made him wanting to run after her. But she was gone before he could follow and tell her to at least write an owl to him, and he was left with a strange feeling of emptiness.

"Well!" She suddenly jumped off of the bed. "I have other patients I need to go look after." She glanced at him quickly. "You'll do fine." She turned.

"Lily?"

"Yeah?" She stopped, turning fast.

He swallowed. "Thank you."

She smiled faintly. "You're welcome."


	2. Chapter 2

Not yet betaed. Will come.

Chapter 2

He wasn't exactly sure what had brought him to this place, but as James tumbled around in a heap of garbage a few metres away from a bar located on the far outside of London, he was glad that it wasn't a place he was planning to go again soon. Though, in his state of mind, nothing really mattered. Just the faint rush in his head and the dull feeling of nothing these muggle spirits he had drowned throughout the late afternoon brought him, was what mattered. Beers had been his favourite so far, but as he slowly had come to welcome the rush in his head and the dull feeling, he'd tried some new things, and had become very fond of that dark, golden liquor. What was it called again?

He'd have to get a bottle of that for when he got home on nights like this. Or to those days where he simply hadn't the energy to leave his house. Or when he awoke in the early morning hours and it was just after the bars had closed and there would go several hours before they opened again.

Time had become trivial to James Potter. It was an unimportant factor in his life, in which days and night flowed into one. He slept when he wanted. He ate when he wanted. And he drank when he wanted, which was most of the time. He had come to live a life purely controlled by his needs, and if someone had asked him to tell him what date or day of the week it was, he wouldn't know. He couldn't remember just how many weeks since his terrible accident it was, but if he were to guess, six months seemed like a nice shot. After all, the winter had come and gone and judging by what he assumed was early night and the temperature, it had to be spring. Early May maybe.

Burping faintly, he rolled over and slowly got up. He got a closer look on the street and then fell back in the heap of garbage again muttering, "Bloody hell". He blinked a few times, trying to get the world to stop spinning, or at least stop spinning so violently, but with no success.

But he was in control of it. He had gotten used to the spinning and the floor rocking back and forth. It was a natural feeling in his life, and the only time of the day it wasn't there, was when he got up and the time it took him to get drunk that day. And he had somehow come to like it. Who would want a perfect life anyways? The rocking floor was just the thing in his life that made it... um, not perfect.

He closed his eyes and slowly sat up again. Only a second later he rolled over and let the last few hours' intakes splatter all over the bag of garbage next to him. He chuckled to himself. That golden thing was a blast!

He faintly noticed a person stopping next to him, before passing out.

*

His face was buried deep in a pillow with a strange scent. Frowning, he realised it was his own breath. Horrible but with a nice odour of something spicy. The golden liquor. He rolled onto his back and slowly opened his eyes. He covered his face in his left arm, as the light was much too bright for him.

He was pretty sure something had happening to his window. The curtains in his house was usually not pulled aside, letting the light of the day enter his bedroom. With a loud groan he sat halfway up and reached for the curtain, and then stopped. This was not his bedroom. His curtain would have been just above his head. And he did not sleep on a couch. What was happening?

Not bothering to answer his own question yet, he moved a bit around on the couch and then buried his face in the pillow again. He should have known already after the smell of the pillow. His smelled like bear, not golden liquor.

He heard the creak of a door opening, not many metres away and afterwards small feet crossing the floor towards him. The person stopped just beside him and then sat down.

"I know you're awake."

James nearly groaned in frustration. What were the odds? He hadn't seen Lily Evans since that day in St. Mungo's and now she was here! Was it her living room? And was she the one to bring him here? This had officially turned to be the worst day of his life.

"James." Her voice had that stern edge he only knew too well. Her mind was set on something and there was a hint of disapproval, or was it anger?

"Yeah," he croaked. Very slowly he opened his eyes, finding her sitting on a coffee table, not a meter away from him. And with a groan he closed his eyes again.

"How are you feeling?" Her voice was softer now.

"In a need of some strong drink," he muttered. "Do you have some?"

She snorted disapproving. "You need a glass of water." She got up and left the room.

Very slowly James sat up. He still was wearing his t-shirt from the previous day, and when smelling to it, he concluded that he'd have to wash it soon. It had been a long time since he'd done that so it was probably fitting if he did it one of the following days.

Stretching with a yawn, he was suddenly overwhelmed by the spicy smell again. "Rum," he mumbled.

"What was that?" Lily stopped in front of the couch with a glass of water in her hand.

"The liquor is called rum," he said to himself. "I've got to remember that."

"Remember all you want," she said, handing the glass over. "But that was the last one you got last night. This stops now, James."

"What stops now?" he asked and drowned the water.

"The drinking," she said. "I've talked to Sirius and the other two. They're very concerned about you."

"So what?" he grunted and lay down again. He closed his eyes and hoped that somehow, Lily would go away and he'd be home in his own bed when he opened them again. "Why am I here?"

"Because I brought you here." Her answer was simple, as if she was answering how to perform a levitation spell. "Sit up."

She was so different from last time he'd seen her. She was straightforward and not polite and careful. Her temper was back, luring just beneath the surface of her calm, hard attitude. She was the old Lily Evans. The Lily James had known from the Hogwarts days. She was that Lily Evans he had wanted to do anything for. The Lily Evans he had loved with the whole of his heart. The one he'd have given his life to be with.

And deep inside, he still had a weakness for that person. He couldn't say no, and he wanted to do what she asked him to and wanted him to do. He wanted to please her, make her smile and happy.

And then he sat up, obeying completely. She had been studying his every movement, he knew. She still did. Her eyes didn't move away from his face and he knew that all of her attention was on him. The way he had always liked it to be, and he felt a certain wave of nostalgia rush through him, and it almost made him smile.

"James, you need help," she said.

He certainly did inot/i. He was perfectly fine. "No," he said. "Why would I need help?"

"Do you remember the last time we talked?" He nodded. "Good." She breathed in deeply. "Then I assume you remember what we talked about. And I assume you know, when thinking about it, that you did not do as I told you to."

"You didn't tell me to do anything," he said.

"I told you not to let it crush you. James, we both know why you've been trying to drink yourself to death the last few months."

He looked away. He hadn't been trying to drink himself to death. He had been drinking because he liked the feeling, because it made him forget about his misery and his shoulder. Because it made him happy. He wasn't trying to drink himself to death.

"That is not dealing with it. James, please look at me."

And he did. He had to do it. When she said his name that way only she could, it left him no choice. Her eyes were so full of genuine concern and took his breath away. No one had looked at him like that for so long time.

Very slowly she reached over and took his hand into hers. It was soft and warm, just as he remembered it. "I said you would have to deal with it," she said. "But you're not. I really believed in you, that it was something you could overcome. I believed you to be stronger. You've let it take over you, it's destroying you. It has made you shut out everything else you love. When did you last time talk to Sirius? Remus? Peter? Your parents? And what about all the trouble you love to get it? What has happened to all of that?"

He opened his mouth to answer, but she silenced him by putting two fingers over his lips. "Don't answer me. Think about it." She got up and left the room and James.

As she closed the door behind her James dropped sideways onto the couch again, closing his eyes.

He had talked to his friends recently. He just couldn't remember when or what they had talked about. Had they met in a bar or had they come to visit him? He couldn't remember. And for his parents. Well, Lily didn't know they had both died more than a year back. And trouble wasn't fun without his friends. But maybe he should go out and break something tonight. Just to prove Lily wrong.

He was about to get up when Lily came back. She was carrying a plate in her hands. She sat it on the coffee table and then sat down herself.

"Wow, you didn't give me much time to think," he said dryly, sitting up.

"Thought you might need something to eat," she muttered, nodding at the plate.

"I'm not hungry," he answered.

She took a deep breath. "Look, James... This has to stop now." She seemed to forget all about the plate and got up. She sat down next to James on the couch, slowly taking hold of one of his hands. "I want to help you," she said. "Help you move on. I think it's time. You've had a self-pity period, but now it's time to move forward, don't you think?" She smiled at him. "You can do it, I know you can."

James wasn't entirely sure what made him do it, but before he gave it a second thought he had slowly leaned forward, pressing his lips to Lily's. He raised his hand, touching the soft skin of her neck gently. And then she pulled away from him.

She was looking down, and very gently she folded her hand around his and removed it. She gathered their hands in the middle, looking at them. She was biting her lower lip. James knew that gesture. She was thinking, trying to decide what to do. The rational, responsible side and then the reckless, impulsive side of her were fighting in her chest, and she was over thinking a simple happening. And he knew what was going through her mind.

"Um," was all she managed to get out before the sound of a door opening sounded through the apartment.

Before any of them had time to react the door closed again and the person entered the living room. He was tall, had fair skin and short, caramel coloured hair. He stopped as his eyes met Lily and James on the couch, and a frown appeared on his forehead.

"Marlon," Lily said, not able to hide her surprise. She let go of James' hands and got up. She rushed to Marlon's side and kissed him on the cheek.

He was still looking at James. "Um, Lily?"

"Yeah?" she breathed, a little too energetic. He nodded at James. "Oh! Um, this is James. He's an old friend from school. We met up yesterday and he stayed over. He lives in the other end of the country."

"Weren't you working last night?" He finally looked away from James and turned his attention to Lily.

"Well." She brushed some hair out of her face. "I got off. James told me he'd only be in London for two days. And I haven't seen him in years. So..."

James was about to protest, seeing as nothing of this was true, when he realised why Lily was lying. This man was a muggle and probably had no idea of apparation and magic. Furthermore, no man would be happy to find another man in his girlfriend's apartment, assuming of course that his guess about this man was correct.

Lily took a hold of his hand. "Why don't you go out in the kitchen and make some lunch? Just for two."

Marlon nodded and turned. When the door closed Lily turned to James. She had a new look in her eyes. One James hadn't seen before. Was it pity? Guilt? A mixture of so many emotions he couldn't place it? She slowly ran her hands through her hair.

"Can we meet up later and talk? Now is just not a good time." She didn't wait for an answer. "Please eat, James. You look hungry." And she exited.

James buried his face in his hands and leaned back in the couch. And then it washed over him. The feeling of rejection. He hadn't felt like this in so long time, and he had forgotten just how much it hurt. And how stupid it made him feel. So cast aside. He wanted to bury himself, metres below the ground where Lily wouldn't ever see him again.

And what exactly had made him kiss her? The sudden concern he received from a forgotten friend? Or was it in fact affection towards her? Or did he just need someone? Not able to draw a conclusion, he settled with the first one, because that was least desperate one.

Because he _knew_ that he didn't feel anything for Lily anymore. He had long buried that in the past. He had started a new life after Hogwarts, that meaning there was no Lily and... Actually, Lily was the only thing he really had buried. He had kept his friends, he had kept playing Quidditch and he certainly did not change one bit. He was the same as then, and so was Lily, but she wasn't a part of his life anymore.

He had dated since Lily, yes, and he had cared for those women. It wasn't a problem to find a girl when being a star on the best Quidditch team in the league. He had forgotten Lily, her voice, her smell and everything that had to do with her. Almost. He had a little scar on his upper arm which Lily accidentally had caused him when they were dating. He hadn't gotten it healed and slowly, a little, pink mark had appeared. It made him think of her every time he saw it, but in the good way. It had made him remember their good times. The way they had laughed and had fun together. How sweet she had been and how much he had cared.

But he didn't feel anything for her anymore.

With a grimace he got up and found his wand. Making sure the door was closed he disapparated with a faint pop.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Life had suddenly become complicated, he realised. Of course not what-to-do-with-my-life?-complicated, but more like which-rum-to-choose?-complicated.

When realising just how many brands of golden rum that existed, James had not been able to contain himself and had bought one of most of the kinds in the store. When he had gotten home, he'd lined them all up on the table and now his job was to decide which one to choose. There were round bottles, square bottles, tall bottles, low bottles and bottles with different stickers on the front. As said, complicated.

He had tilted his chair and with a frown and arms crossed in front of him, he was thinking. After a few more minutes, he grabbed for a bottle near the middle and twisted off the lid. The first mouthful burned down his throat, but as the warm sensation washed through him, he welcomed the feeling and took another swig of the bottle, closing his eyes. He put his feet onto another chair and relaxed fully.

Even though it was two days since he somehow had awakened in Lily Evans' apartment, he could still remember every detail of that morning (which was rare, remembering what exactly had happened two days prior). He could remember what her living room looked like, the words they had spoken and, with a certain amount of dread and self-pity, the kiss. He hadn't drunk anything that day, but the next day, he'd been back in the bar again, full force. And now, he was sitting at home, tasting rum, while waiting for time to pass.

The doorbell suddenly echoed through the house, surprising James. No one he talked to used the doorbell. Those few who actually came here anymore just walked inside. With a groan, he got up, still holding the bottle in his hand, and walked to the door.

He barely had it open before regretting it. Lily Evans in person was looking at him, a frown on her forehead. She had her arms crossed and didn't look very pleased, but not mad either.  
"What are you doing here?" he asked.

She didn't answer his question, but stepped inside. "You are very hard to find, James," she said, then looked at him.

"Yeah?" he said, taking another pull from the bottle. "How come?"

She closed the door and then snatched the bottle from his hand.

"Hey!"

"You," – She pointed at him, – "are in for a shower, and that's now!"

It was too early for James to understand what really was going on, but one thing he knew was that he didn't fancy being commanded around this early in the morning. Not even by Lily Evans.

"No," he answered. "And give me back my rum."

She hid it behind her back. "You're showering now, James. We'll take everything from then on."

"But why?" he groaned.

"You stink of bar, rum, sweat and... _whores_!" She crossed her arms.

"Oh," he muttered, "that might be because-"

"James?" a feminine voice called from the kitchen.

Lily looked at him, her eyes nearly falling out. Then they narrowed. "You _didn't_, James Potter!"

"In fact I didn't." He crossed his arms. "She's a friend I met."

"Uhuh." She smirked, mockingly. "What's her name?"

He searched his mind. Last night had been rather slurred, and he only remembered he had met her a little before he went home. It was something with B... He rubbed his head.

The woman stepped into the hall, stopping. She had one of James' too large t-shirts on, her feet were bare and her brown hair was messy and tangled. She was easily three years older than James, but he hadn't been able to see that last night. Her mouth formed a silent 'o' and she stopped.

James looked from Lily to the woman and back again a few times. He had absolutely no idea what to do, but Lily clearly had. She crossed her arms and turned to the woman.

"I don't know who you are, and I can't say I care, but you have exactly two minutes to get the hell out of here or I'll kick you out!" she said coldly.

The woman looked at James who simply shrugged, not really knowing what else to do. Then she spun around and ran back through the kitchen and into the bedroom. Lily turned to James, now clearly angry.

"You're getting in that shower now, James," she said calmly, "or only Merlin knows what I'll do to you."

James didn't let her say that twice. Forgetting all about the woman and his bottle of rum, he turned and walked straight into the bathroom, slamming the door after him. He quickly turned on the hot water and stripped off his clothes.

The shower lasted longer than he had intended it to. When first standing under the water, he realised just how dirty he really was. It was probably four days since his last showered and he had been lying in a heap of garbage in those four days. And somehow, it felt good to wash all of it off him. Plus, he didn't want to face Lily right away. She took a long time in calming down and she was not happy today.

Stepping out of the shower, he looked for some clean clothes, but the shorts and t-shirts scattered on the floor were all dirty and even _he_ could smell them. He wrapped the towel around his waist and slowly opened the door. Lily wasn't in the hall so he slowly stepped outside. Opening the door into the kitchen, a smell of lemon overcame him and he nearly coughed. Lily's jacket had been thrown on a – now – clean table. Clean and empty! His bottles of rum were gone and Lily was nowhere to be found. Halfway through the kitchen he realised where she was though.

"No, no, no, Evans!" he yelled, running to the sink where Lily was pouring bottle after bottle of rum into the sink. "What are you doing?"

He tried to take the bottle out of her hands, but she pushed him away. "You've been drinking your last bottle, James," she said, glaring at him.

"No!"

He grabbed for a bottle but Lily pushed it out of the way and smacked him on the side of his head. "Forget it, Potter!" she hissed. She raised an empty bottle towards him. "Now get dressed, or I'll have to hit you with this."

Growling soundlessly he turned and rushed towards his bedroom. "What's that stench anyways?" he called, searching for something clean to wear.

"It's the smell of a clean home," she said easily.

He shook his head in confusion. But why was she cleaning his home? And why was she taking away his rum? Lily Evans had, of course, always had a thing for helping people, but he didn't need help. He liked his house the way it was, and there was no need for her to change it.

He eyed a half empty bottle on the floor and grinned. Making sure she wasn't right behind him, he grabbed for the bottle and took a long pull of it, feeling the burning sensation through him once again. He hid the bottle under his blankets and then quickly dressed.

When he returned back to the kitchen, Lily was waving with her wand, cleaning. She didn't notice James before he spoke up.

"Why are you doing this?"

A bottle flew into the wall when she jumped up at the sound of his voice. With a sigh, she pointed her wand at the bottle, muttering, "Reparo." She turned to James. "Because you're living like a pig, James, and I want to help you get back up."

He sighed. "I don't need your help, Evans. Go back home to your boyfriend," he said bitterly.

She glared at him, but ignored his comment. "Go gather your dirty clothes and we'll wash them. I'm sure it's needed."

He slumped down on a chair. "Please go home, Evans." She suddenly smiled. "What?" he asked with a sigh.

She shrugged. "It's just the way you say Evans. It reminds me of Hogwarts."

"Yeah..." He ran his hand through his hair. "Bet it does."

She dragged a chair across the floor and sat down on it, in front of James. "Look, I know you don't want my help. But I'd hate to see you die, and I'm here as a friend. I'll help you get back."

"I don't need your help," he sighed. "Really."

"Well, you're getting it anyways." She crossed her arms. "And you'll go clean your room right now."

"Fine!" He got up without looking at her. He slammed the door behind him into the bedroom.

With an angry movement, he threw the blankets aside and took a long pull of the bottle.

"James!"

He spun around, finding Lily standing in the doorway. She was angry again. She marched over and grabbed the bottle.

"No!" he exclaimed and grabbed for the bottle, but she kept it out of her reach. "Give it back!"

"Clean your room!" she hissed.

James wasn't sure what overcame him, but before he had sensed it, he had jumped forward, pushed Lily away and grabbed the bottle in the same movement. She hit the wall with a cry of pain and fell onto the floor. He watched in horror as Lily curled up, fighting tears. She rubbed the back of her head and after several long seconds, looked up at him.

Her eyes were slightly teary, and she was looking at him with an expression he had never seen her wear before. She was scared of him, he realised. Lily Evans was scared of him. She was scared, and it was because of him. He couldn't believe it.

It seemed for a few seconds that they were both dumbstruck, but James was the first to move. Not able to bear her gaze and the wave of shame, horror and guilt that washed over him, he ran out of the room. He wanted to vomit. His own actions made him sick. Out in the kitchen, he got a look at the bottle, and with anger pulsing through his veins, he threw it against the wall.

The bottle shattered and the golden liquor left a large spot and trail down the white wall. He continued throughout the kitchen and grabbed a coat in the hall on the way, slamming the door after him. When outside, he had no idea where to go, but his feet carried him down the road, and it wasn't long before he found himself several streets away from the house and Lily. He slumped down on a bench in a deserted area.

He wanted to turn back time and do as Lily said. He wanted to see her smile, not looking at him with fright in her eyes. She shouldn't have to be afraid. And not afraid of him! She should be happy and smiling, and no one should cause her pain; she didn't deserve it. She deserved people trying to stop people like him from hurting her.

With a loud groan, he leaned forward, burying his face in his hands. This wasn't the way it should be. Life shouldn't be this way. Life should be more like...

He looked up at the sound of laughter. Across the street, a family walked. Two children, no more than six and four years, were laughing; running around the parents who were walking side by side, holding hands. They too were smiling.

That. That's how life should be; carefree and filled with laughter. One shouldn't have to worry about hurting people and what drink to buy next time. That could have been him and Lily. Had they not had that little fall out, that would have been them; in love and maybe with a child on the way.

He wouldn't have been who he was. He would have overcome that accident, maybe it wouldn't even have happened because he had taken some time off to be with Lily or their little girl, Erica. He wouldn't have been buried in self-pity because then Lily had been able to help him. And he would have accepted that help, because he knew Lily only did it because she loved him.

He closed his eyes, realising that very second, that all of that was still what he wanted. He wanted to be with Lily, see her happy.

But she wasn't happy and he had hurt her badly. He knew that. He couldn't possible make her happy in this state. He had to get out of all of this. He had to move along and forget about these past months. No, not forget them, but learn from them. But he couldn't do it alone, and there was no way he was going to look at Lily again. Not now.

He leaned sideways on the bench, wanting to disappear from the earth. He wanted to be invisible, the person who could never hurt another human being. He didn't want to breathe in the fresh air that burned in his lungs, because the fresh taste reminded him of every morning he had awakened, smelling his own horrible breath. Rum, beer, vodka. Everything.

But he wanted himself to want the fresh air. He wanted to breathe it in with a smile on his face, feeling that everything was all right. Feeling alive and happy. And that's when he realised it.

He wanted to change. But he _did_ need help, he knew. Just not from Lily. Not now.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

It was mocking him, laughing at him, telling him he didn't dare. And James highly agreed with it. He didn't dare rise from the staircase, go forward and knock on the door. He was afraid. When the door was closed, he could still imagine that nothing was wrong. But had it first been opened, he couldn't pretend anymore. The fact that even his best friend had given up on him and left him would be laughing him in the face. Tormenting him even more than the closed door. Therefore it was better to keep it closed.

Rubbing his face shortly he got up, going straight for the door, but he stopped, hand stretched out. He couldn't do it. He bit hard together and took yet another step forward. He had to.

With fright he suddenly realised he could hear someone on the other side of the door. And before he could leap away, the door opened. The young man on the other side stopped dead seeing James. James' hand slowly dropped and he stared back at his (maybe) best friend who looked just as stunned as James.

After several long seconds Sirius breathed out. "James," he said.

"I need help," James said.

Sirius threw his jacket back in the apartment and looked at James. "Yeah, you do. Come in."

And James did as told. He realised he didn't care he showed weakness. Friends were there to help and Sirius had been the person that had been there every time James had needed anything. Sirius and Lily were the only one who had ever seen James in such a weak state he couldn't contain it and keep it in him. They were the only one who had seen him on the edge, breaking ever so slightly. They were also the only ones who had seen him get it together again. And James knew he needed that help again. That kind of help only Sirius could provide. Lily was out of the question for the moment.

Without speaking Sirius slowly walked into the living room where he sat down, looking at James. Carefully, James sat down too. The silence was tense. Sirius was staring at James and James felt too bad to be looking back. Did Sirius want him there or was he only letting him in on pity?

"I hit Lily," James finally said, looking up.

Sirius didn't seem surprised. He was frowning though, but his eyes showed no hint of judgement.

"I hit Lily," James said again, now looking into his hands, "because she didn't want to give me my bottle. I didn't realise it before she was on the floor. I've never seen her like that. She was scared of me." He rubbed his temples. "Sirius, she was scared. Of me."

"I don't know what you want me to say," Sirius said and cleared his throat. "You refused our help when we offered it, you didn't talk to us for months, and now you suddenly feel bad for it? What is going on inside that head of yours?" Now the judgement and disapproval was shown in his voice and eyes.

"I was too damn proud to let you help me," James muttered angrily. "You should have known that!"

"But would that have stopped you for wanting to do it on your own?"

James didn't have an answer to that. He didn't want to satisfy Sirius with that. Instead he buried his face in his hands, sighing loudly. "Look," he muttered. "I need your help. I need it now, and the reason I'm asking you is because I know you can help me."

"That must be so hard to say," Sirius bit but he was somewhat smiling.

"Yeah."

"So what are your plans?"

James swallowed. "I need to stop drinking. I need to get back up, get a job and get my life in order."

"That's a little much to ask for, don't you think?" He raised a hand to indicate James should keep quiet. "But answer me this first... When did you hit Lily and i_why/i_?"

James swallowed. Here came the hard part. He did not want to relive those scenes in the house, hell, he didn't even want to think about it. It made him sick.

"She was at my house just this morning." He looked at Sirius, but he didn't seem surprised by this fact. "She would help me cleaning and she took my bottle of rum. And I hit her, shoved her." The thought brought a wave of bitterness with it.

"Yeah, but i_why/i_?" Sirius looked urgently at James.

"Because she took my bottle," he said, "and I wanted it back."

Sirius rubbed his temples. "You're not answering my question. I know you wanted your bottle back, but was it necessary to hit Lily for it? Were you mad at her? Think about it, James."

James leaned forward, burying his face in his hands, thinking. Why did he hit Lily? Because he wanted that fucking bottle. Because he couldn't live without that bottle. But that wasn't Sirius' question. He asked to Lily. No, James wasn't mad at her. Annoyed, yes, but mad, no. He couldn't be mad at her. He wanted Lily to be there. He wanted her around so they could be together.

But he had not liked her to be there, that he couldn't deny. He hadn't wanted her help because she shouldn't see what mess he was. She shouldn't see how weak he was. He was supposed to be the person who could overcome everything. She had even said so. She had believed in him and he let her down. Shown her he wasn't strong enough. He hadn't wanted that. He had a desperate need for Lily to see him as that strong guy she had been with in their happy. The one who could overcome everything. The one who would let no one step on him. The one who would get back at everyone who had pushed him down.

And suddenly he realised it.

"I wanted to prove to her I wasn't weak," he said. "I was weak in her eyes and I couldn't have that." He rubbed his forehead. "Damn."

For the first time since James had gotten there, Sirius smiled. "Yes?"

James nodded. "She made me feel weak, invading my privacy, and I couldn't let her believe that. I had to be strong and..."

"And you hit her to prove that," Sirius said with a nod. "It's actually understandable." James looked at him with scepticism. "Understandable, not acceptable. There's a difference."

James sighed. "So what am I doing now?"

"What do you think?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. I can't ever look at Lily again after this."

"Prongs, don't be so hard on yourself." He sent James a careful smile. "We'll get to Lily after we've gotten to you. So now we need to get to the drinking part. Why do you think that is?"

James raised an eyebrow. "Easy. It all comes back to that accident."

Sirius nodded. "Correct. Everyone could guess that. And what do you want to do about that?"

"Hmm."

James frowned, leaning back. That was a hard question. What was there really to do? He loved playing Quidditch and he hadn't done that in over half a year. He was sure that was the reason, but what he could do about it, he didn't know.

"Prongs..." James looked at Sirius. "You need to find something else that makes you at least as happy as Quidditch."

"It's not just the Quidditch," James confessed.

"Yeah?"

James sighed deeply. "It's the feeling of being incapable to do anything right. Quidditch was what I was good at. Without that, I have nothing."

Sirius laughed. "We both know that's a lie. Come on, Prongs, you've never been this modest in your life before."

"Fine." James took a deep breath, smiling. "I guess I'm good at other things... I always loved magic."

"Wow, that's strange," Sirius replied dryly.

James glared at him. "I mean. I always love doing it. I loved fighting battles with the Slytherins and hexing people. Hey, I should have been a Death Eater."

"We're not welcome there," Sirius said with a grin.

James was suddenly overwhelmed by a sudden feeling at that sentence. There was a 'we' and Sirius was talking to him. Their friendship hadn't been lost. It made him happy, and he suddenly realised he had been missing this. Just talking to his old friend was much better than drinking himself senseless on some random bar.

"Let's do something together," he said suddenly. "We haven't seen each other in so long time. Let's do something wild."

Sirius' face light up in a second and the glint of ideas for mischief was in his eyes. "I think that's a brilliant idea, Prongs."

"So, Mister Padfoot. You have an idea?"

Sirius stroked his chin. "I have for later tonight. Besides, I have a few things I need to get in order today."

James suddenly remembered. "Yeah, me too. I really should get cleaned at home." He licked his lips slowly. "Do you think Lily will be gone when I get back?"

After a few seconds he shrugged. "Go find out."

James nodded and then slowly got up. "I'll see you later?"

"Yeah. We'll talk about the being good at something later."

"Okay."

James didn't bother exiting the apartment before disapparating. The crack resounded through the house and he slowly moved from the hall into the kitchen. The broken bottle was still shattered over the floor under the wall he'd thrown it against. Everything was as when he'd left. Except Lily's jacket. She was gone. James sat down on a chair, sighing loudly.

Of course she would be gone. Who'd want to hang out at a violent man's house, afraid he's just hit her again when he got home? No, Lily's actions were completely understandable, and James didn't blame her. He felt sorry for her, and for a few seconds he let pity overtake him again.

Then he got up and walked towards his bedroom. Lily's work should not be for nothing. With a loud sigh, he began cleaning. The bottles vanished, the clothes gathered in a pile in the middle of the room, the curtains were pulled aside, things got back in their right place and dust and other kinds of dirt were vanished too.

Then he moved onto the kitchen. It was worst there. Or it had been before Lily had gotten there. She had washed the plates with dried and too old food on. She had washed the floor and removed everything from it. She had taken care of everything. The only thing James was to do was clean up the broken bottle and wash the wall.

It was a tiresome work, and before he'd made his way to the living room, James was in serious need for a bottle of something. A beer would do too... He licked his lips at the thought. It was very tempting and he forgot about cleaning for a second.

There were still bottles in the living room, he knew. Not rum, but beers and maybe a bottle of vodka. He had already dropped his wand and was on the way towards the living room when he stopped himself.

"No," he muttered. He couldn't do it.

But there was something that kept pulling in him. The warm sensation of the liquid running down his throat. The careless feeling it brought.

He hit his fist against the wall. He had to think of something else. And he did. He thought of what he knew would help. Lily's face. The scared shadow on it only hours earlier. The feeling that brought made him turn and pick up his wand again. He had to get this done, because if he couldn't do a simply task like stop drinking for a minute whilst cleaning, how would he be able to stop for good?

He could overcome this. Lily had believed in him. Sirius believed in him. He could do it.


End file.
